Runescape: The Descendant
by Oryxace
Summary: Suiro didn't know he was the descendant, but he's about to awaken, in this revised version of the New Gielinor story.
1. Chapter 1

The sound of a hammer hitting a hot piece of metal, it was music to my ears, before I associated it with another event. My name was Suiro, my family ran a smithy in Burthorpe. For generations we handled everything from repair to production, to mass production. We also refused to pick a side in the everlasting conflict known as the Clan Wars.

Maybe I should start from the beginning, it was the year 1206 PC, when everything started for me. The gods were banished from our world, after fighting a decade of ferocious bloody war, but that was generations ago. The person who banished them also made it so they could never return, people call him the 'Saviour'. They say he fought all the gods at once, and still had enough power to completely sever the connection between the mortal and immortal realms. He vanished shortly after however, never to be seen again, eventually people started trying to take over what was left of Gielinor. Clans were formed for this purpose, once they had been in service of the lands, now they fought to control the lands, people started calling it the 'Clan Wars'.

As I said, my family didn't pick sides, but when the conflict came to our front door, things changed too quickly to stop.

I struck the hot piece of metal, it was going to be a sword, it rang out rhythmically, and I knew it was going to be a good one. The day was cold, but the forge made the inside of the smithy warm, I plunged the metal into a nearby bucket of water, steam rose. Life was as peaceful as you could get in these times, Burthorpe was far away from the front lines of the Clan Wars.

"The sound of a hammer hitting an anvil, oh that takes me back." Said a stranger as he entered my smithy.

"Can I help you?" I asked him, looking up from my work.

"My sword needs repairing, peasant." He replied, unsheathing his sword and throwing it down on my work bench.

"Perhaps if you treated it with more respect, it might not need to be repaired as often." I responded, putting down the sword I had been working on, and inspecting the one he had rudely placed on my workbench.

"It's a sword, it doesn't need respect, what it needs is a good smith, and the one who was travelling with me was killed outside your fair town this morning, a bloody waste of 300 gold." He replied, as he inspected his nails.

"It'll take about that much for me to even think about repairing your sword." I said, returning to my work.

"Bah, surely you must jest!" he said, looking surprised at my statement.

"I need to make a living, and times are harder here than they may have been in Misthalin, and I will charge you what I feel the job is worth, and here it will take a fair amount of work, increasing the price, you're better off buying a new sword." I answered, handing him the sword.

"Fine, I will take your best sword, at half price of course." He said throwing his old sword to the ground.

"You'll pay full price, or you won't get it at all!" I said, irritated with the man.

"Watch your tongue peasant, do you know who I am?" He said, reaching for the side of his cape.

"Frankly, I don't care, but if you're not paying, then get out of my smithy!" I yelled at him, pointing to the door.

"I am an officer of The King's Death, you'd be good to respect me. We took control of this region last evening!"

"I don't give a damn! Unless you willing to pay full price, then you can hit the road!" I yelled at him.

"You'll regret this." He muttered as he walked out.

I picked up the ruined sword that he had left lying on the ground, it wasn't in as bad shape as I had initially thought. No doubt it had seen its fair share of battle, but nothing that would require more than a good polishing, and elbow grease. Only the sword had received none of that, and the steel was rusting quickly, making it more and more brittle. It likely would've broken if used seriously in a fight, which immediately raised the question in my mind as to the role of the man who had just been inside my smithy. I placed the sword on a nearby rack, _maybe it will be useful later_ , I thought to myself, as I returned to my work.

Three hours later a bell rang out through Burthorpe, signalling noon, I cooled the piece I'd been working on and wiped the sweat off my forehead with a dirty rag. I flung my cloak around myself, and walked out into the crisp day, the warmth of my forge making it seem ten degrees cooler. Burthorpe was on the western slope of White Wolf Mountain, a part of the Kingdom of Kandarin, and a border town to the Kingdom of Asgarnia. This time of year, when the temperature was cooler in the countryside, the cooler air from the top of White Wolf Mountain would drop, causing Burthorpe to be 5 degrees cooler on average than other regions in the same climate zone. I pulled my cloak tight, and breathed shakily in the cold, my teeth chattering, and my breath was very much visible.

I entered the main of town, and then a local pub I liked to frequent, inside was warm, and dreary, which was unusual, not the warmth, but the mood. A feeling of defeat seemed to hang in the air, I sat down at my usual table, off in the corner, out of view of most of the building. From my pack I pulled out a book and a pencil, opening the book, I took note of the work I'd done today, and how much money was going to come it from it. I scratched my forehead, things were not going to be even, I was fifty gold pieces from breaking even, but the tax was fifty percent, and it would cost twice what I had left after that to cover the next month's expenses. I ordered a pint of ale when the waitress came to take my order, scribbling notes on a new page, thinking about ways to cut costs.

A group of bronze armoured thugs entered the pub, banging the door hard on their way in. They were almost like a comedy group, with a small, medium and large member, everyone in the pub made eye contact with them. The large removed his helmet, revealing a rough unshaven face, his voice was deep and resonating;

"I'm looking for someone!" He yelled, resting his hand on his sword.

"Who abouts?" The bartender asked them, giving them a shaky smile.

"I'm looking for a blacksmith, my officer needs to have a word with one, about private business." He replied, looking around.

"You'd be looking for Suiro then, he's the best blacksmith in town, even few dwarves do better work than him." The bartender said, pointing to my corner.

"Are you Suiro?" The large one said, making his way to my table.

"I am, what can I help you with?" I asked them, closing my notebook.

"Major Strapp of the King's Death is looking for a blacksmith." The large one answered.

"And he asked for me?" I said, finishing the rest of my pint.

"No, He told us to go find a blacksmith, you appear to be the closest one." The man said, placing his hand on the table.

The thugs lead me out of the pub and through town toward the town centre, a battle had definitely taken place. Bodies still lay in the street, buildings smoked, every now and then a crater would become visible. Swords and various other weapons were stuck into the ground, torn cloaks were tied to them, fluttering in the breeze. The cloaks were black, bordered in a sickly shade of green, the heraldry bore a skull with a crown, some of the cloaks had a gold sash draped on top of them.

"Are you a member of the King's Death?" I asked them.

"I am." He replied, keeping his eyes forward.

"Is this just an excuse to kill me?" I asked him, remembering my earlier encounter with them.

"Not to my knowledge, I was told to bring a blacksmith to the castle."

"What for?"

"He didn't specify." the man replied, sounding irritated.

We walked for a ways, then we were stopped, by a single man in crimson armour, twin scimitars hanging from his belt. He wore a helmet that completely covered his face, chainmail, and heavy looking greaves, moving toward us, he seemed to be exuding an aura of intimidation. He drew his swords and in a swift motion cut down the two men behind me, from at least 4 metres away, levelling a scimitar at the third.

"I do hope I can let you live." the man said, his voice carried an accent I didn't recognize.

"Same to you." The large man replied, swiftly drawing a radiant blue longsword, "I have my orders, no upstart in red is going to stop me."

The large man lunged at the crimson clad figure, his sword moved at a blur, clashing with the red man's scimitars. from underneath his cloak, he drew another blue sword, shorter than the first, and brought around to the lower back of the crimson figures armour. The sword struck the chain mail, but failed to penetrate, which was unusual considering that chain mail wasn't designed to stop stabbing blows.

"I'll give you another chance to surrender." The man in crimson said.

"I lived in Misthalin, watched my king slaughtered by his subjects, my property razed, and my family killed, I haven't anything to lose." The large man replied.

"Then perhaps we need not be enemies." The man in crimson said, his body seemed to dissolve into smoke.

The sword that been held against the twin scimitars slashed down into the ground, embedding itself, he did not appear to be holding the short sword any more.

" _Ory_ , I've come to wake you up." The man in crimson said, reaching out in front of him and pulling something out of thin air.

"What do you mean?" I asked him, "I'm already awake, and my name's not _Ory_!"

"Of course it's, you're still asleep." the man said.

The object that had appeared in his hand appeared to be a signet ring, the ring displayed a 4 pointed star. Grasping it using his forefinger and thumb, examining it. the slits of the mask moved toward me, he took a step forward, then stopped.

"Do you know what this is?" He asked, letting the ring into into the palm of his hand, it made a clinking sound on the red metal.

"It's a ring." I replied, too nervous to move.

"Well yes, I suppose that's the most immediate observation, but do you know it represents?" The crimson helmet melted into a red tinged smoke, and the man's face finally became visible.

"Who are you?" I asked, the man's face was young looking, but his eyes seemed to speak years.

"My name is Devaris." He answered, his eyes looking up from the ring.

his hair was black, highlighted with red, and his eyes were a fierce gold.

"Now, do you know what this ring represents?" He repeated, holding it up.

"I do not."

"This ring represents your awaking, it contains a fragment of the gods." The ring began levitating in the air. "This may hurt somewhat."

The ring flew into my right eye, and a searing pain overtook my eye socket, then it radiated into my skull, I screamed, and dropped to my knees. the pain continued to grow in intensity until I started seeing spots, the strength seemed to be draining from my body, I felt myself hit the ground. A few seconds later I completely lost consciousness.

I was standing on a high cliff, overlooking a battlefield, smoke rising from burning war machines, two massive figures clashed from opposing lines. Trying to reason what they were, I figured I was staring at the old gods, Saradomin, and Zamorak. The scene below them was gruesome, even from high on a cliff, rivers and lakes ran red, bodies lay everywhere. War cries, and clashing weapons could be heard for miles, I tried to look away, but my body wouldn't listen to me.

The scene continued for some time before I finally turned around. Behind me was a massive glowing orb, and a pillar of light, I raised my hands and channelled magical energies. The feeling was almost painful, draining, I felt the life flow into the giant glowing orb, then back into me, then back two fold into the orb. This continued for several minutes, before something finally happened, the orb shot into the sky, making it seem to break. Energy rippled through the heavens, the light seemed to drain from the world, and the fighting stopped, a booming cry could be heard over everything, it was the cry of Zamorak, the massive black and red figure. Suddenly light rained down on the landscape, digging deep trenches, and incinerating combatants, panic ensued, everyone just trying to save themselves, a boom like thunder cracked the ground.

Then suddenly was over, almost as as it had started, the sky returned to normal, and I turned around back to the scene below the cliff. The landscape was scarred, and the titan forms of the Gods were gone. I collapsed my right eye burning, my body weak, I tried to stand, but my muscles refused, I succeeded only in rising to a kneel. Then the right side of my vision went black, and a shot of pain went through my skull. I brought my hand up to my eye socket, something hard fell into my hand, breaking into pieces in my palm. the pain continued for a moment, blood was now pouring from my now empty eye socket.

the last of my strength seemed to leave me, just as my hand was about to drop someone caught it, I looked up, his face was familiar.

"Ory, are you all right?" he asked, fierce gold eyes staring at me.

"My... My eye is..." I send feebly.

"Yes, I can see that, I'll get it into a vessel immediately, maybe we can reconstruct it."

"No..." I managed, "It's over Doom, I'm done, but the world won't need me any more."

"God damn it Ory! You know that's not true!" He yelled at me.

"Not... Not for a while..." I said, my vision becoming blurry, "You'll... You'll know... Whe..."

I jolted awake, but I wasn't in Burthorpe, I was sitting in the room of what appeared to be an old mansion, but it was in ruins. I stood up, I was dressed in a simple green and white tunic, my beard was gone, and my hair was neatly cut. After examining myself in a mirror on the wall, I walked into the next room, it was a kitchen, an awful smell seemed to radiate from the pantry, I quickly walked into the next room.

The next room appeared to be the front foyer, it had a door that was hanging on a single hinge, the room opposite the door had a staircase in it, made of stone. I went up it, but the second floor had been destroyed, though oddly enough, there was a single alter, with a golden four-pointed star sitting on top of it, the same that had been on the ring. The room had no walls, and I could see the entirety of the property, there were two other buildings, one that looked like a guest house, and a small low lying building that looked like a chapel of some sort. Light streamed out of its windows, I felt like I could jump from the second floor to the ground, I shouldn't have been able, but I felt like I could, so I did. I landed light on my feet, like I didn't weigh anything, the door to the chapel flew open, seemingly beckoning me to enter.

I walked over and into the building, kneeling at the alter was a man wearing a green robe, not like the sickly green of the King's Death, it was a natural, comforting green, like fresh grass.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked in a voice that bore a resonating quality that seemed to shake my very being.

"N... no..." I managed, feeling like I was being crushed.

"My name is _Oryxace_ , first bearer of the eye of Saradomin, Saviour of Gielinor, banisher of the Gods..." He said, standing to his full height.

He turned around, and lowered his hood in one swift motion.

"And your ancestor." He finished, the crushing presence vanished in an instant, "You can call me _Oryx_."

Baffled, I stood with my mouth opening and closing for a second before he said something else.

"You must be confused, and very much frightened, I imagine Doom took to the theatrics instead of actually explaining anything to you." The man said, placing a hand on my shoulder, "Terribly sorry about that, he always liked to make an entrance."

"Where am I?" I asked him.

"You're in my old house, though it is more of a ruin now." He replied.

"I dreamed something… something awful…" I said, trying to wrap my mind around the images that had filled my mind just a short while ago.

"That was my memory, transposed into your conscience by the transfer." Oryx said, "What you saw was my last memory, the Seventh Battle of the Wilderness Volcano, and the Fifteenth battle of Mount Corbit."

"Which is it, the Seventh or the Fifteenth?" I asked on an impulse.

"Now that, is an interesting question, which requires a bit of history to understand, you see before the Wilderness existed, it was a country called _Corbinith_ , however it was... Destroyed during an early war, I'd say probably about -80 PC." Oryx replied.

"What do you mean by 'negative eighty' PC?"

"Do you know what PC stands for?" Oryx asked.

"No one does, but it's the universal age that every kingdom in Gielinor has accepted as the current age, it's been used for centuries and no one knows why." I answered him.

"Really? I would've thought Doom would've kept up the historical knowledge on that particular concept." Oryx said, scratching his forehead, "It stands for 'Post Catastrophe'."

"You keep explaining things, but I only get more confused." I replied.

"Why don't we sit down, and discuss this like gentlemen." Oryx said, raising his hand and snapping his fingers.

The scene wrapped itself in smoke then I was sitting in the room that I had first woken up in, the chair however, was much more comfortable now. The mansion that had been a ruin just a few seconds ago was now perfectly repaired, and filled with a warm feeling, like an old relative's house. Oryx was now dressed in a blue robe, resembling what Mages wore on the battlefield, and was reading a book from off the shelf.

Examining myself, I was dressed in a similar robe, but it was black. Oryx turned as I stood up, closing the book that was in his hand. He made a purpose of walking over to the marble fireplace, which had a warm fire burning in it. He placed a hand on the mantelpiece and gazed at the wood plaque that was mounted just above it. The plaque bore the compass rose of Asgarnia.

"Do you know what this symbol is?" Oryx asked, turning his head towards me.

"It's the royal heraldry of Asgarnia, I lived in Burthorpe, of course I know what it is."

"It's actually the heraldry of The Reapers clan, I married into the Asgarnian Royal Family briefly and granted them use of my heraldic charge." He replied, smiling nostalgically, "But enough about that, I believe I was going to explain the meaning of 'Post Catastrophe' to you, it does have a lot to do with this heraldry."

"Then explain, no need to wait for me to ask." I said, coming off sarcastically.

Oryx didn't seem to notice, clearing his throat he began.

"The Reapers were an immense clan, and we competed for power in Gielinor in what you could describe as the first clan wars, as it was the first time that independent clans fought with one another on a large scale. War would never be same after it, and truly the world never was. The clan that we were fighting was the remnants of the nation of Corbinith, which was destroyed in the last war between kingdoms in Gielinor. They called themselves 'The Followers of Hell', though we more aptly called them 'The Zamorak Followers', as the two terms are synonymous. They wanted to destroy those who had fought against them in the war, and destroy those who believed in Saradomin, essentially they were waging a crusade.

"Well my clan would not stand for this, The Reapers marched against them from the very beginning. We failed to nip them in the bud, and they grew with every failed attempt to destroy them, I myself committed a small genocide against them. When they became powerful enough to actually challenge the order of things, The Reapers began to rally, open conflict began in about -14 PC. The first battle was the Battle of White Wolf Mountain, and the final battle was the Third Battle of the Wilderness Volcano, Eleventh Battle of Mount Corbit. When the battle seemed almost lost to us, I activated the eye of Saradomin in a way I hadn't before, which was to destroy the mountain itself.

"I succeeded, but the power didn't stop there, it destroyed half of Gielinor, and The Followers of Hell in the process."

"So the symbol represents destruction?" I said.

"Yes, somewhat, the circle represents Gielinor, the overlying silver four pointed star represents the clan of The Reapers, and the underlying gold four pointed star represents the destructive power I unleashed that day. All together the four pointed stars, which together form an eight pointed star, represent the destruction of Gielinor, and its rebirth, under the rule of The Reapers. We decided that it was a new age, and started calling it 'Post Catastrophe', due in part to the fact that it was after a cataclysm of epic proportions." Oryx stopped and stared at the wall, looking regretful, "It was our greatest triumph, evil was eliminated, good was all that remained, we could not fathom what would happen next."

"Interesting, but before you explain, let me take a guess, just to save time," I said, holding up my hand to stop him from saying anything else, "You had conquered Gielinor, and now without evil to face, and a world to rebuild, you weren't always able to do good, and so people started to see you as evil."

"In short yes, there were several rebellions, and eventually we decided to dissolve The Reapers, and form a smaller clan called The Archers." He replied, solemnly, regret filling his face.

After a moment I decided to ask him about the man in crimson.

"The man who sent me here was named Devaris, where does he fit into all this?"

"I don't know a man named Devaris, but let me guess; he had golden eyes and black hair." Oryx answered, a smile returning to his face, "Yes well, he's obviously changed his name, but he was the leader of The Reapers, under the name 'Doom', he vanished shortly after the Third Battle of the Wilderness Volcano, and thus I was forced to take over The Reapers, sometimes I wonder what would have happened if he had stayed."

"He vanished, but he did reappear obviously from the memory I saw." I said, piecing together an idea of history that was altogether new to me.

"Yes he reappeared about 4 years after the formation of The Archers, but he refused to take control again, saying I was now responsible for it, we continued to fight alongside one another for centuries."

"And then you banished the gods together, and you died, and he went searching for your descendent's." I said, standing and walking around the room, "Then he found me, and shot a ring into my eye."

"I suppose that is accurate." Oryx replied.

"And now, you're going to take me over, and forcibly end the clan wars." I stated, turning to face him, "I warn you though, I'm not going to go easily."

"Doom may have thought that was the case, however it is not." Oryx answered, his aura becoming ever so slightly threatening, "I have no intention of returning to Gielinor, my time passed 500 years ago, and though Doom may have hoped that one day I would return, it would not be right for me to. I had intended for the problems to occur and sort themselves out naturally, like they did before The Reapers, or The Archers, or any of this, our influence ultimately created more problems than it ever solved. But, you have been infused with a fragment of the Eye of Saradomin, an immortal essence, thus you can't be a regular person anymore."

"What if I don't want it?" I asked Oryx.

"You haven't a choice in the matter anymore, your soul is linked to the immortal fragment of the Eye." Oryx replied, "But you shan't be immortal, it is a fragment, but it was bound to my soul first, which means I am immortal, and since it was never removed from my soul, I continue to exist as an immortal entity. Because of this, I can control whether or not you can receive any benefit from the Eye's original power, and my soul will take up a part of your body."

"Will you be able to control me?"

"If I choose to, but I won't, I'll keep it to knocking you out and talking you down." Oryx looked up for a second, "I think you should wake up now, please tell Doom about my decision, and apologize to him for me."

Oryx snapped his fingers and I woke up. Staring at me was Devaris, and leaning against a post was the man from the King's Death who was to take me to see the officer in charge of Burthorpe. I sat up and looked at Devaris.

"How old are you?" I asked him.

"A good estimate is somewhere over 1500 years, but then, you already knew that." He answered, "Ory, we have a lot of catching up to do, quite a bit has changed."

"First of all, my name is not 'Oryxace', it's Suiro." I told him, "Secondly what the hell do you want with me?"

Devaris seemed to sit for a second shocked, disbelief evident on his face.

"How did you overpower him?" He asked, his face stern, and unfeeling.

"I didn't, he never wanted to return, he told me to apologize for not telling you." I replied.

"But his last words were - "

"You'll know when." I said, cutting him off.

"Yes!" Devaris nearly screamed at me, "He indicated that he would be needed again in the future!"

"I think he wanted you to sort it out, he said that his time in this world was over."

Devaris closed his eyes, a single tear emerged at the corner of his eye. After a moment he took a deep breath, and opened his eyes. He pulled an amulet out of thin air, and placed it on the stretcher I was sitting on.

"I think I understand what he means now, this amulet belonged to him when he was a Reaper, I think you should have it." He said, standing up and stretching.

"That's not the end of it is it?" The man who had been leaning against the post said.

"What you mean?" Devaris asked him.

"Right now a lot of people think the clan wars are going to end soon, because their is only really two major sides fighting now - "

"The King's Death, and Valhallius." I said, cutting him off.

"One's gonna win, and the other is going to be destroyed, if this eye of yours is so powerful, you could probably decide the fate of Gielinor." The man said.

"Well I'm not going to, my family has been neutral in this conflict for almost three centuries now, I'm not going to do any different." I replied, "Besides, you're a member of The King's Death, shouldn't you just kill me now so I won't be a threat?"

"I could, but I'm not your enemy in all this." He said.

" _Hans_ , has offered to help us, and I have a feeling that it will be invaluable in the near future." Devaris said gesturing to the man leaning against the post.

"But first I need to take you to my officer, he'll have my hide if I don't bring him a blacksmith soon." Hans said.

"I understand completely." I replied.

The walk to Castle Burthorpe from the infirmary that had been set up to accommodate casualties from the battle was short, and soon the castle loomed over us. The stone work had been damaged by The King's Death's war machines, the top of the castle was crumbling, but repairs were already underway. The main door had been smashed in by a battering ram, which was still sitting in front of the door.

The castle itself was ancient, with records showing a fortress built there as early as 0 PC, though with the information that _Oryxace_ , had given me, I suspected it was far older.

He led down and into a which had a table set up in it, a map covered it with various objects here and there obviously representing armies. A single man walked around the table, he was dressed in a suit of gold-trimmed black armour, and wore the cape of The King's Death, the heraldry outlined in gold. He didn't seem to notice us enter.

"Majour Strapp, I've brought you a blacksmith as requested." Hans announced after a long moment of silence.

"Very good, you may leave." The man replied.

"Yes sir." Hans said, making a short gesture that was most likely a salute before turning and swiftly leaving the room.

The man at the table continued to pace, staring at the map, and every now and then scribbling some notes into a notebook. He had a very lean figure, and his hair was black, long and tied back in a low ponytail. He stopped pacing in front of me, turned and grabbed my face.

"Your name is Suiro, son of _Destos_ and _Sakura_ , you are a blacksmith by trade, but you and I both know you are much, much more than that." The man said, his voice carried a thick Kandarin, laced with malice, his eyes were a cold yellow.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about." I replied.

"It is harder to get away from a bloodline than you would think." The man said, releasing my face, and walking over to the table, "Do you know what this represents?"

"I seem to be getting that question a lot recently." I replied.

"It represents the destruction of the old ways, and the birth of a new age." The officer said, his voice giddy with excitement, "The King's Death is close to completely eliminating all monarchies, the Asgarnian royal family will be executed tomorrow, and then we move onto Kandarin."

"They don't even have any power anymore!" I yelled, feeling outraged at the man's statement.

"Yes, yes, I'm aware of that they seceded power to _Valhallius_ , but they are still a symbol!" The man replied at an equal volume, "And symbols, must be eliminated."

"What do I have to do with all this?" I asked him, crossing my arms across my chest.

"I've killed 4 different blacksmiths today, all because they were not you." He answered, straightening himself, "I didn't realize there were so many blacksmiths in this pitiful excuse for a town."

"Still doesn't answer my question."

"I want you to join us."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then perhaps you should check on your smithy." The man replied coldly.

"What for?" I asked him, "The forge is contained, and I haven't lit any lanterns today."

"Perhaps you misunderstand... I've had it destroyed, to make room for a larger smithy to be built."

For a moment I felt my rage peak, then I felt a crushing feeling of loss, I ran out of the room, then the castle and down the street. I felt tears in my eyes, not of sorrow, but of anger, I was angry at The King's Death, for ruining my peaceful little town. I rounded the bend and saw a massive inferno raging, right where my smithy had been, I stopped dead in my tracks, and stared.

A man walked up behind me, then put his arm on my shoulder.

"You should have just fixed my damned sword, then maybe this wouldn't have happened." The man said, cackling.

I stared at the burning building, then it collapsed, embers shot into the sky, tears poured from my eyes. I watched helplessly for hours as the fire burned, then it died down to hot ashes, my life was gone, everything I had ever owned, all my family's heirlooms and memories, were gone. The moon rose and cast a cold light on the ruin, my tears had ended a long while ago, now what remained was a sense of defeat.

"Alright, time to go, get up on your feet." Said the man from earlier, "You've got places to be, people to meet."

"No..." I said feebly, my voice felt like it wasn't there.

"It's not your choice anymore." He replied, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me to my feet.

At that moment I noticed something, the hilt of a burnt sword in the rumble, my anger exploded. I ran for it, wrenching my arm free from his grasp, I dove into the charred rubble and grabbed it. It was still hot, a scream ripped itself from my throat, and I ran at the man who had taken my peace, drive the sword into his neck, with a jump and a thrust, I beheaded him.

I landed on my feet, the bloodied sword in my hand, the man's head rolled out of in front of me, his body made a thump as it hit the ground. Around me were 4 men in green and black robes, their faces hidden, and their arms raised, runes seemed to dancing around me in a dome. I felt angry, angrier than I had ever been, but not at The King's Death any longer, I was angry at the people who proliferated this bloody war. I let another scream rip from my throat, it was as though someone had their hand in my head, and that only made me more angry. I lunged at one of the robe figures, my sword broke against a barrier of some sort, unseen, I threw it down and began punching the air, striking their invisible barrier.

My hands were bloody, but my vision was red, and their robes were making me angry, I continued to attack the barrier, my hands growing ever more bloody.

"I haven't seen such glorious bloodlust since the battle of Rimmington!" Said the voice of the man from the castle, "Is it almost done, is he ready to be unleashed?"

"YOOOUOUUUUUU!" I screamed, lunging where his voice was coming from, pain shooting up my arm, I snarled like a beast and tried to bite him.

"My, my, aren't you the little beast, hard to believe you were civilized only just a short while ago." He said, laughing.

"Wh… why…" I managed, subduing my fury for an instant.

"Because we need you on our side..." He said, spreading our his arms, "Welcome to The King's Death!" He said as I blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

Darkness, that's all I saw, absolutely nothing, the only sound a faint crying in the distance, my crying. Then darkness gave way to light, or more accurately; I woke up. I was sitting in a cart, my hands and legs were bound in chains, my mobility was severely restricted.

"Make way! Make way!" Said the driver of the cart.

"We refuse to live under your tyranny anymore!" Someone yelled in response.

"Unchain me." I said.

"We aren't scared of you anymore!" Someone else yelled.

I licked my teeth, their dissent made me angry, thus they had to die.

"Unchain me so I may silence them!" I yelled at the driver.

"Only if you promise to come quietly afterward." The driver replied.

"Of course..."

"Alright then, lets see here..." The driver came into view, an older man, with one eye and a bony physique, he fumbled with the locks on my arms, and managed to get them undone.

I sat up, pain shooting through my body, I had been immobile for a long while. I glanced around the cart, there was a mob surrounding us, men and women dressed in tattered clothes. They looked weak, and pitiful, I climbed out of the cart and walked up to one of them.

"So!" I said to the crowd, "You aren't scared of us?!"

"Damn straight!" The man in front of me yelled in response, the crowd murmured in agreement.

"Care to correct that statement?" I asked them, cracking my knuckles.

"I aven't anythin to lose!" Yelled the man in front me, "Do wot you will wit me!"

"You don't know the meaning of the word fear." I said, grabbing his throat and lifting him into the air.

He struggled against my arm, but he was weak _._ I felt my anger rising, concurrently my grip on his neck tightened, he made gurgling noises as the life left him. With one final squeeze, I snapped his weak neck, and threw the body into the ground.

"You ought to string his body up in the trees, maybe a few of the live ones too." I said to the driver, feeling my face contort in a sadistic sense of joy.

"Aye, I'll pass along the word then, come on you got places to be." The driver said, gesturing to the cart.

"Yes, I suppose we do." I climbed back into the cart, and the driver whipped the horses and we began moving again.

"Welcome to Varrock by the way," he said as we moved along a road with many buildings, "This is the seat of power for The King's Death, Major Strapp asked that you be brought before Lord Oerius, leader of The King's Death."

"Wonderful, I'm sure we'll have a good long conversation about the local riff raff." I replied.

We moved along the main road and into a square, guards dressed in blue armor trimmed in red stood at attention at one end of it, and various sorts of degenerates milled about. We passed through the guards, and entered what appeared to be the grounds of a castle. It was larger than Castle Burthorpe, and much more fortified, soldiers dressed in red trimmed blue hued armour manned ramparts and ballistas for as far as the eye could see.

The entire atmosphere was crushing, like being cornered by an animal. The driver instructed me to dismount, and I pointed to the castle, he then bowed, climbed back into his cart, and drove away. I walked into the castle, a man dressed in a green and black robe greeted me at the entrance, bowing deeply.

"Master Suiro, your presence here is an honour." He spoke, his voice was diminutive, "You're requested in the throne room by Lord Oerius."

"Then please, show me the way." I instructed the man.

He rose and lead me to the right of the entrance. The castle was poorly lit by torches, portraits of men dressed in elegant green black and gold robes decorated the walls. They seemed to exude a sense of opulence, and evil, I stopped in front of one.

"Who it this?" I asked the man who had been leading me.

"That would be the 3rd leader of The King's Death, son of the original leader of the rebellion, it was his choice to bring us to bear on the world in the name of glorious revolution." He said, bowing to the portrait.

"So he started the Clan Wars then?"

"Yes, his first conquests included the Merchants Guild of Misthalin, and the Duchy of Lumbridge, both of which had declared themselves independent following the glorious revolution." The man said, with a sense of reverence.

"Yes, he was quite the conqueror." Said a man who had just suddenly appeared, The diminutive man how had been leading me around dropped to his knees and kissed the floor.

"You look like the person in charge of this little operation." I said, continuing to admire the painting.

"You'd be right about that, I am Lord Ouries Rose, current leader of The King's Death, a pleasure to meet you." the man said extending a hand.

"Do you want me to shake it or kiss it?" I asked him, angry at his assumption that I would submit.

"I apologize if I've offended you, I had no intention of doing so." He said, retracting his hand.

"Lord Ouries, perhaps an introduction is in order." Said a man approaching us.

"General, what kept you, you are already 15 minutes late." Ouries said, gesturing to the approaching man.

"A group of suicidal hobos, my lord, nothing more." He answered almost sarcastically, "And this fellow must be Suiro, _the Descendant_."

"I suppose I would be." I answered him, "I'm not going to shake your hand."

"I wouldn't want to shake your hand on the best of days, I've heard you are extremely prone to angry outbursts." The man said, keeping a noticeable distance.

"Perhaps we should take this conversation to a more comfortable room, a hallway is not really the place for such talks." Ouries said, gesturing to a door at the end of the hall.

He lead us through the door and into a throne room, then again through an entrance way into a banquet hall. I took a seat near the end of the table as Ouries took a place at the head of the table, the general sat opposite of me. I looked at him, he was an elf, and had a terrible scar down the right side of his face, he looked familiar.

"I am General Plexus Strapp."

"Do you by chance have a son?" I asked him, feeling my anger rising.

"Yes, you may have met him, I put him in charge of Burthorpe after our rout on Valhallius." He answered, looking proud.

I leaned over the table and grabbed the man by the neck.

"Your son is responsible for the destruction of my property..." I said, digging my nails into his neck.

"Oh really?" He said, his voice not wavering, "Care to apologize?"

"I don't apologize, for actions I did not undertake!"

"Suiro…" The General whispered, "Just because you are a homicidal maniac, does not mean you can kill a General."

In an instant I felt the air drain from my lungs, I gasped for air, but failed to breath in, I released the General's neck, and grabbed my own.

"Plexus, please do not kill your new subordinate." Lord Ouries said, smiling faintly.

"Oh, you're no fun at all sir." The General said, waving his hand, suddenly I could breath.

"I will not follow this man!" I yelled once I'd caught my breath.

"t's not your choice, we should very well kill you now just for what you did, just now." Lord Ouries said, seemingly amused at the little outburst.

"You are to function as my personal assassin, eliminating targets ahead of my legions." General Strapp said, leaning back in his chair and gesturing for the servant to bring some drinks.

I felt my anger dissipate slightly, but not completely, the thought of killing someone made me excited.

"When do I start then?" I asked them, "I'd like to vent some anger."

Standing on the slope of a low hill in the White Wolf Mountain range, it was possible to see all of _Taverley_ , a town filled with druids, and homeopathic merchants. Generally it was a neutral place, as was the case in many of the towns and villages surrounding White Wolf Mountain. The buildings looked like they were grown from trees, foliage covered their roofs, and small animals roamed about, all in all a peaceful place.

General Strap was standing next to me, dressed in a suit of gold trimmed black armour, his helmet in his hand, a gold bordered cape flapped in the wind. I myself was dressed in some black chain mail and greaves, with a pair of black claws, but no helmet. My hair flapped in the wind, I felt blood thirsty, the people in that town were happy, this was unacceptable. I licked my lips, the anticipation was killing me. General Strap placed his hand on my shoulder, he seemed to understand the feeling.

"Kill them all, and prove your loyalty to The King's Death." He whispered in my ear, "Leave no survivors..."

I smiled in agreement, then proceeded to jump from the cliff we were standing and down toward the town of _Taverley_. Entering the town at a run, confused people stared at me, I jumped and dug my claws into one of them with a roar. Screams erupted all around me, swiftly and powerfully I shot from building to building, ripping apart figures dressed in greenish brown robes.

A glint of red in the corner of my eye briefly caught my attention, then plants erupted around me binding my arms and legs. Thrashing around only made them constrict further, my arms were bound in a way that prevented me from using my claws. I stopped moving, and looked around, three druids circled around me reading incantations out of books.

"Is this what _Oryxace's_ line has been reduced to?" A voice from behind me spoke.

"Evidently, though I'm confident it's just a personality charm." Another voice said.

"This isn't the first time I've seen it, they do this all the time people." A third spoke.

The speakers came into view after another moment, Devaris, Hans, and a third one dressed in a black robe with a blue and white cape. Devaris was still wearing the crimson colored armor, Hans was dressed in a blue hued armor with a runed surface, 2 swords hanging from his belt, He was no longer wearing the cloak of The King's Death. Devaris looked angry, the third man, dressed in the black robe was scratching his chin.

"Before I repute your claims Devaris, I'd love to know the name of your little friend there." I said, trying to keep the anger out of my voice.

"I am Octavius, Sergeant with The Loyal Elite, a pleasure." The man in the black robe answered.

"More importantly, we're here to break The King's Death's hold on you." Devaris said, approaching me.

"You won't be able to..." I said, feeling almost giddy with excitement for absolutely no reason.

"We'll see..."

A wave of energy destroyed the buildings and ground around me, Devaris and Hans were thrown backward, Octavius was incinerated. General Strap was standing several meters away, his arms radiated a black energy unlike anything I'd ever seen before. He released another wave of energy, but Hans blocked it with his swords, General Strap seemed confused for a moment.

Using the energy he destroyed my restraints, and I lunged at Hans, he managed to block my blow but my other claw caught his face, cutting deep gashes up its left side. He gritted his teeth, and attempted to counter, General Strap launched another pulse of energy which knocked Hans back. Devaris charged at General Strap with his scimitars, blocking blasts of blackish energy with his swords. General Strap drew a crystal like sword from a scabbard on his belt and countered Devaris' attack. He managed to knock Devaris back, then went on the offensive with his sword.

"Plexus!" Devaris roared, "What have you done to him!?"

"I've made him better Doom!" General Strap yelled in response, "I've turned him into the perfect weapon, he doesn't even require any training!"

"You've turned him into a monster!" Devaris replied, leaping backward, "A horror!"

"Oh come now Doom!" General Strapp yelled, raising his sword to press an attack, "You're just bitter that I've tamed the Descendant!"

"He did not need to be tamed, he needed to know his options and make a choice!"

"Alright." General Strap said, lowering his weapons, "Let's see what his choice is..."

 _You can't make this choice now_ , a voice inside my head said.

"I..."

 _Perhaps I should rephrase, YOU MAY NOT_ , the voice said again.

"RRRRAAAaAAAAAAaaAAAAaaAA!" I screamed, a sudden pain had begun in my skull, I couldn't think straight.

"Wonderful!" General Strap screamed in delight.

"What have I done?" Devaris looked at me with horror.

My right eye had begun burning, the pain in my skull seemed to focus on it. I stared at Devaris, he demanded I make a choice, that made me angry. He assumed I would choose him, he assumed I would submit, but he was wrong.

1207 PC, late autumn

A cold wind blew through the air, it was getting on toward winter, I had completed 27 missions successfully, and had a death toll of 337 people, and 3 monarchs. My classification within The King's Death military force was 'Assassin', they gave me orders, but I did not always have to follow them. I walked down the path toward Ardougne, my current mission was to kill the king of Kandarin, who was, according to intelligence, staying in Ardougne. My eyes were locked in the direction of Ardougne, but I hadn't eaten in a number of days, and my vision would occasionally blur for a split second, off in the distance there seemed to be someone standing, watching me. The figure vanished when I blinked, _there shouldn't be anyone out here,_ I thought to myself as I pushed forward, the figure appeared again, this time closer to me.

I decided that it was a hallucination from the lack of food, as the sun set in the distance I set up a makeshift shelter to sleep in. In the morning, I got back to the path, and came across a hut, with smoke rising from its chimney, I entered through the window, startling the person inside. He was dressed in a blue and white cloak with a scale and a set of crossed swords on it, similar to Sergeant Octavius from several months earlier. For a moment I mistook him for that Sergeant who I had seen vaporized, _what is happening to me?_ I thought as I lunged at him, pushing the coincidence out of my mind. He waved his hand casting a spell, suddenly my body wouldn't move.

"I will use your skin as a coat for this!" I yelled at him, my anger rising.

"Will you now?" He replied, staring at me with eyes that seemed to see right through me.

"Why are you staring at me!?" I screamed infuriated.

"Trying to get a good look at the Descendant, and what they've turned you into." He replied, sitting down at a table, and sipping some tea he materialized in his hand, "Devaris mentioned that something had happened to you, he's been quite distraught since that incident at _Taverley_."

"Release me old man!" I yelled, annoyed with the frail looking man.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself, I am Aethenous, leader of The Loyal Elite." He said, taking another sip of his tea, his eyes seemingly all seeing.

"Do I look like I give a damn who you are?!" I screamed.

"No, but that's all the more reason to introduce myself." He said, placing his tea down, and picking up a book next to it on the table, "We're not going to let The King's Death kill the king of Kandarin, or continue to subjugate the Descendant."

"How do you know about my mission?" I asked, surprised and angered by his statement.

"We didn't, you just confirmed it." Aethenous said, flipping a page in the book, "We extrapolated that the sudden movements in Plexus Strapp's legions would be followed by the deployment of the most renowned killer of monarchs in Gielinor."

"You will burn."

"You've already killed most of us anyway, wouldn't make much of a difference." The old man said, continuing to read his book.

An hour passed before much of anything else happened. A knock came at the door, when Aethenous answered it, Devaris stepped in, dressed in purple leather armor.

"Welcome Devaris, I have him bound in magic, would you like some tea?"

"Do you have any ale?" Devaris replied, unbuckling his swords, and placing them against a table.

"Unfortunately I am too old to thoroughly indulge in such things, please sit down."

"Devaris, come to try and change my mind?" I asked him.

Devaris picked up a cup of tea that had materialized in front of him, for a long moment he said nothing. He turned his eyes to me, they were filled with tears, he was crying. He looked absolutely pathetic.

"Do you understand the things that you do?" He asked me.

"They ask me to kill, and I comply, that is all." I answered him.

Devaris let out a long sigh.

"What have they done to you?" he whispered, as he wiped his eyes.

"Nothing, I've simply realized my views on the world."

"You were not a killer when I first came to you in Burthorpe, you were a kind decent man seeking to simply make a living, not a killer." He said, his eyes steady, if not a little watery.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and his body went rigid, I felt my right twinge with a burning sensation for a split second.

"Aethenous, undo the binding spell and run," He said after a moment, "He needs to see this through for himself, so commands the Saviour."

The cup of tea that had been in his hand fell and shattered on the floor.

"As it shall be then." Aethenous replied, Devaris melted into smoke.

"It would seem my life is at an end, Suiro, when you come to your senses, do not regret what you are about to do, and what you have done, and will do in the very near future." Aethenous said, he raised his hand and undid the binding spell.

I shredded his frail body in a split second, he never screamed, nor did he show any sign of fear, he smiled even after his head lay on the ground. I ate the food in his hut, then continued on my way to Ardougne. It took me another day to reach Ardougne, when I reached it, the king was holding a rally for peace he was wearing white robes, and held a sign of Saradomin. The white robes showed the blood quite spectacularly, I took the sign of Saradomin as a trophy of the mission, his guards came at me. None of them were a match for me, I easily killed them, and began running for the gates of the city they were closing them.

I placed the sign that the king had been wearing around my neck, using my claws to quickly scale the wall of Ardougne I was gone. I ran for an hour to get out of range of the city, then hid in a tree. Everyone knew that the gods had been banished from Gielinor, but still churches dedicated to them existed, and in some cases thrived. The star of Saradomin had come to represent more than Saradomin, many saw it as a sign of peace, and was used by those who wished for the clan wars to end. I tried to rationalize a reason to throw the pendant from the King of Kandarin to the ground, but I couldn't, for some reason I decided to put it back on.

As I drifted into sleep in the tree I had hid in, a figure appeared at the edges of my vision same as the figure I had seen on my way to Ardougne. I tried to bring myself to alertness, but for some reason I couldn't, I could however make out some details about the man. He was dressed in a green and white robe, clothes a priest might wear, he had a dagger strapped to his belt, and a worn blue and white cloak, flying from his back. I don't know why, but seeing him made my anger dissipate ever so slightly, I just barely managed to keep myself in a state of semi-alertness. The figure walked toward me, as he did, his clothes changed, slowly getting more intricate as he approached me, by the time he reached me, he was dressed in ornate crimson plate armour.

He reached out to me with his hand, kneeling down as he did, I tried to bat his hand away, but I was so tired I could barely move. He stroked my face, his face was aged and weathered, but ever so similar to _Oryxace_ `s, his right eye shown brilliantly the sign of Saradomin. As he continued to be close to me, I felt hot tears begin in my eyes, slowly, I fell asleep the cold of the world didn't seem to affect me anymore.

"Sleep well Suiro, this will not last forever, I promise." The figure said, his voice the voice of Oryxace.

1208 PC, early spring

Flowers were often used as a way to tell someone how you felt about them, red flowers to woo a girl, white flowers at a wedding. I preferred white flowers, they showed blood the best, I lunged the right flank of my opponent with my claws, he blocked. I tried slashing across his front, again he managed to block, I continued moving forward, forcing him to take a step or two backward.

"You're good!" I yelled, a manic smile plastered across my face.

"As are you!" the knight responded, blocking another of my strikes.

I sped up my attacks, my claws connected with his weapons multiple times in a second, eventually I managed to find a gap in his defence. I shot my right claw through the gap, and pull it across his poorly defended flank, blood flew from his flank and landed on the white flowers that covered the ground on which we fought. He screamed, and fell to one knee, clutching his side, I stopped my attack, and stood above him, trying to catch my breath, he looked up at me I could see his terrified eyes through his visor.

"You are a good warrior, I take no pleasure in doing this." I said as I swiftly slit his throat, "Find peace in the afterlife."

I don't know how long I had been fighting for The King's Death, the days seemed to blur together, the pleasure I had had once had in killing was gone. Now it had simply become part of the job, kill, report, kill, report, it had become a tedious cycle, the days seemed grey. I walked down the path from Edgeville to Varrock, the flowers were in full bloom they made the air sweet and it was awful.

Infantrymen walked by me, weary, but returning to the front, they saluted me as I passed them, I tried to ignore them. Varrock came into view, a wall was being constructed around the city, to turn it into a city fortress I walked past the construction crew, all of them slaves. General Plexus Strap was in his office as usual, writing reports about my activities across Gielinor, I had become his most priced asset as a general. He saw me enter, and placed down his paper, standing and in a swift motion, gliding around his desk, to my side. He circled me, a look of anger on his face.

"You were not to kill the prince of the Elves!" He yelled.

"I have eliminated the last of the old knights of Misthalin, General." I reported, ignoring his outburst.

"Yes well, it will be much harder to subjugate the Elves without the assistance of their royal family." The General said, trying to push the topic.

"Fear maintains order." I said, the tone of my voice threatening, "The basis of The King's Death is fear, thus we will be able to subjugate them."

"Perhaps, but the Elves are stubborn, it will not be easy to make them afraid." The General muttered.

"What is my next target?" I asked him, desperate to return to the front.

"I suppose we'll figure is out, as for your next assignment, I want you to kill King Arthur XVII, is has been a pain in our side for ages, take him out with extreme prejudice." General Strap said, tossing a file toward me on his desk.

I quickly walked out as one of General Strap's advisers approached the door, _how many more Suiro?_ A voice in my head said. I pushed it out of my mind and start thinking about the mission, Camelot was a long way away, in the kingdom of Kandarin. It used to be a massive kingdom, but centuries diminished it, the royal family however still held considerable influence over Kandarin. The kingdom would fall, and it would be by my hand, and my claws, The King's Death would reign supreme, no matter how many people had to die.

"You didn't always think like that." Said a voice from behind me.

"Devaris..." I muttered, my claws twitching.

"Suiro, I cannot let you continue with what you are doing!" Devaris yelled, "I must end what I started!"

I whipped around and lunged with my claws, he blocked with a crimson scimitar, I leaped backward and prepared to launch another atttack. A glint of blue came to the corner of my eye, the next thing I knew I was flying across the cobblestone square. I landed on my feet and came up claws at the ready, Hans had his sowrds drawn and leveled against me.

"…You shouldn't have done that…" I whispered.

A presence like a thousand demons suddenly appeared behind me, then a sword impaled my chest. I gasped for air, then realized, that there was no sword in my chest, my hand flew to my chest, the feeling taking a while to dissipate. I turned around, fear the only emotion in my mind, anger for once absent, my claws cut my tabard, and clanked against my armour as I gripped my chest. Behind me was a demon, no, a god, power seemed to pulsate from every bit of its body, tiny ripples of energy form and ran across the ground. He stared at me, his eyes gleamed red, his right arm glowed with the power of a forgotten god and suddenly I saw the city destroyed.

"How…?" I managed, as I dropped to my knees, suddenly the city was restored, as though nothing had ever happened, "…What are you…?"

"I am Doom, Leader of The Reapers, and the last survivor of the age before the clan wars!" He said, his voice resonating in my ears, his power cracking the ground around him, "People know me as Devaris Hex now, but it does not diminish the fact that I still possess the power of Ares!"

Devaris took a step forward, and raised his right arm, then a spike on a chain impaled his shoulder. A look of surprise engulfed his face, followed by anger. He threw waves of energy in the direction the chain originated, destroying part of the castle wall.

"Doom, did you think I would lose to you, and not create something to defeat you the next we met in combat?"

Devaris struggled against the chain, what happened next I was unsure of, because I felt my consciousness slip away from me. In the dream that followed I was back in Burthorpe -at least I thought it was Burthorpe- hammering a hot piece of metal into a new shape. The scene seemed at least to be a memory, but finally I decided it was not mine, the hands were too dark in colour.

Then everything went black, faces passed by me at a rush, hundreds of faces, all them in pain and agony, blood gushing from each of their mouths, pooling on the ground. It fell over me like a waterfall, I raised my hands, and looked down at my body, I was covered in their blood, it continued until an ocean of blood was at my feet. I looked up at the black sky, the faces were nothing but skulls now, grim stars in an oblivion that filled me with fear. I started screaming, uncontrollably, waking with a start, I was in The King's Death's military hospital, Plexus was nowhere to be found, neither was Devaris. Getting up I noticed it was midday. I stood and left the hospital, questions in the realm of existentialism clouding my thoughts _._

 _Who am I?_ I thought to myself as I walked through the back alleys of Varrock. Aimlessly I walked into a tavern, the establishment was known to be a rebel hideout, but I didn't go to kill, I went to drink. I entered slowly, inside the light was dim, and the air smelled of alcohol, and vomit, everyone inside stopped what they were doing to look at me. I continued to walk in, several people hid their faces, I took a seat on one of the barstools, the bartender stared at me with a look of resentment for a second before walking over to me. When he did, there was a clatter as several patrons left, _filth, all of them_ , I thought to myself.

"What can I get you, sir?" The bartender said, giving me a wide birth.

"I'll have a bottle of whiskey, at half price of course." I said, I quickly corrected myself, "Actually, on second thought, I'll take it at full price."

"Sir, you're a member of The King's Death, you're entitled to a 50% discount on all products and services." The bartender said, resentment filling his aura.

"Fine, then sell it at half price, I don't really give a damn anyway." I said, annoyed at myself, and the bartender.

"Very good sir." He said, walking away to fetch a bottle.

The room was utterly silent, not even the pianist dared make a sound, I heard the faint, but distinct sound of weapons drawing. I turned on the stool, and looked at them, all of the patrons had some sort of blade ready, obviously they wanted me dead. One of them approached me, his face had scars on it, from my claws, his cloak was a tattered blue and white rag with a scale and a set of crossed swords on it.

"You killed Aethenous." He almost yelled, levelling a sword at my throat, "I should kill you right here, but that would only lower me to your level."

"Oh please, slit my throat right now, I insist, I deserve after everything I've done."

He stood there for a moment looking dazed and confused, then got ready to slash at me, I didn't intend to block and counter, but before I knew what I was doing, he was dead.

"Anybody else want a turn? I warn you I can't control my reflexes…" I said, staring at the dead man before me, "If you attack me, my body will react, and kill you."

There was no hesitation in the movements of the patrons of the bar, I didn't want to kill them, but I couldn't stop myself. I slaughtered them, blood stains the walls of the tavern, I sit back down on the barstool, _why must this always happen?_ I thought to myself, for once not enticed at the sight of blood. The bartender came back from the supply room shortly thereafter with a bottle in hand, not noticing the carnage in his bar, he placed it harshly in front of me.

"And here we have a bottle of the–" He stopped fear filling his face as he noticed the carnage.

"You're not in any danger, but I'll take the whiskey and leave." I said, standing and taking the whiskey out of the tavern.

I drank the bottle in a dark alley just off the main street, with the vagrants who fled through the gates under false pretences almost all day. But I didn't much care about them anymore, they didn't matter, nothing mattered, not after everything I'd done, _but why am I only now, starting to feel guilty?_ I thought to myself. I awoke the next day laying on a couch, my head feeling split, and nauseous, but I managed to keep down whatever was left in my stomach.

When I start to look around the room, I realized I was in a brothel, or what was left of one, I'd obviously killed them. My clothes are stained with blood, bodies are strung up in the rafters _just more bodies for the kill count_ , I thought, _what the hell is wrong with me?_

"It is not what is wrong with you, it is what you have allowed yourself to become." Said a voice from somewhere in the room.

"Who are you?" I asked to the empty room, "And show yourself."

A figure appeared before me, dressed in ornate dragon plate, his hair was black, and covered one of his eyes, he had a goatee. His right eye was white, not blind, but white, his other is a startling shade of blue both seemed to be the eyes of an old man. His skin was a dark shade of olive, his cloak was blue and white, with a scale and a phoenix on it, I looked up at him, he looked familiar.

"You!" I yelled, remembering the vision from over a year ago.

"I did say you'd have to play this out, however, you've fallen a long way to get here." He said, the room was utterly silent except for his voice.

"Tell me something I don't know." I muttered, looking for something alcoholic in the pile of bottles sitting by the couch.

"They're going to kill Doom." He said, crossing his arms, "They've been looking for him for a long time, and you made him reveal himself."

"I haven't done anything, it was his choice!" I yelled angry with the man before me.

"His sense of honour could not let you go." The Saviour said, speaking to me like a parent lecturing their child.

"And look where that got him" I mumbled, taking a swig out of a bottle that still had stuff left in it, "He's going to die now, so what? What does it matter to me?"

"Do you want to help him?" The Saviour asked me, staring at me with hard eyes.

"Why would I put my life on the line for someone I barely know, and who has caused me so much pain and personal turmoil?" I said to the concerned looking man.

"Do you want to know him?" The Saviour asked, raising his right hand.

"I don't give a damn." I muttered, trying to forget it all.

"Then remember everything." The Saviour whispered as he touches his hand to my forehead.

A flood of memories rushed into my mind, none of them were mine, and it was a lot more than a few decades it was centuries. I screamed in pain, gripping my head as the information was forced into it, tears fell from my eyes, as the information began to assert itself chronologically. The Saviour retracted his hand, and let me sit for a moment my mind comprehending its new memories.

"Help him, please." The Saviour said as he faded away.

The following day I looked for leads as to where Devaris was being held, I started at the bottom, with rumours spread by guards. There seemed to be no information regarding him circulating, which meant either people were too scared to spill, or no one had been told anything interesting. I decided to go to Plexus, I was not looking forward to it, when I knocked on the door, his adviser answered.

"Where is General Plexus?" I asked the decrepit man.

"He left of for Taverley yesterday evening, something about some business in Keldagrim." He answered me.

"Have you heard anything about a special prisoner captured about 2 days ago?"

"No, I don't… well actually I overheard Plexus talking about someone who had the power of the gods, but I just dismissed it, I mean the gods were banished centuries ago right?" The assistant said, going back to his work.

"And where was this someone being sent to?" I asked him, clicking my claws off the walls.

"He said, he was sending him to Dragon Hold prison in Daemonheim." The assistant answered.

"I will allow you to live an additional day." I replied coldly, walking out of the room.

Daemonheim was the northernmost territory of The King's Death, populated by prisoners and exiles mostly, those who weren't prisoners and exiles were religious zealots worshipping the Saviour. The journey was long and dangerous, through the Wilderness, I took a horse from Edgeville, and made good time to Daemonheim. When I arrived the guard manning the checkpoint separating Daemonheim from the Wilderness was asleep, I killed him for disregarding his duties.

"Dragon Hold prison is on the other side of the mountain…" I muttered to myself as I began the long trek to the other side of Daemonheim.

"So are you going to go over the mountain, or around it?" said an image of the Saviour, appearing in the whirling snow.

"I'm going to go around, less effort that way." I replied, I had already accepted my own insanity, hallucinations were just the next part of it.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" The image said, "You've always wanted to see the ruins at the top of the mountain of Daemonheim."

"Don't you want me to save Devaris?" I responded, annoyed with the image.

"Doom can survive a day or two longer, you've always wanted to scale this mountain, so why not do it?" The image said, vanishing in the wind.

"Fine you want me to scale the goddamn mountain, I'll scale the goddamn mountain!" I yelled to the nothingness around me, my core body temperature slowly dropping.

I began climbing, I had always enjoyed rock climbing back in Burthorpe, but now it was different, I was doing it for a different reason. Daemonheim was an ancient place, created by the Dragonkin, and ruled over by the Mahjarrat Bilrach for many centuries. Now it was only a ruin, a shadow of what it had been, I had always wanted to see the ruins, ever since I was young, and thought the Saviour's memories did contain images of them, I wanted to see them with my own eyes.

I climbed, through the snow, over the rocks, I didn't take the clear cut path to the top, so no one would know I was coming. I reached the top, exhausted, bloodied from several falls, and the rough nature of the rocks, as well as starving. The images I had seen from the memories of the Saviour did the Dragonkin palace no justice, though it was a ruin, it was magnificent. It was massive, statues of dragons carved into the high fortifications, a massive doorframe of stone, with metal hinges indicating where massive doors once hung. Everything had a vague, spiked and vicious look to it, it was made of obsidian, it had an awe inspiring/fear inducing feel to it.

"Now aren't you glad you came all this way." The Saviour said, appearing in my field of vision.

"It's not as impressive as I thought it would me." I replied.

"Then why do you look so mystified?" The Saviour responded.

"I'm just tired…"

"We shall see." The Saviour said, vanishing into the whirling winds.

The inside of the abandoned structure was just as imposing as the outside. Inside the floor was polished obsidian, massive 20 feet tall statues of Dragonkin seemed to stand guard over the place. I walked in cautiously, my claws at the ready, it was dark inside, safe light that streamed in through holes in the ceiling. I heard running footsteps off in the distance, too _light to be a man, a woman?_ I thought as I tried to get a bead on where the sound was coming from, the inside of this place echoed.

As the footsteps came closer I realized that they were coming from behind me, I whipped around to see an elven woman running, terrified of something behind her. She didn't have time to stop, or hide her surprise in seeing me, I had just enough time to aim my claws away from her as she slammed into me. We tumbled to the ground in a heap, she struggled to try and get off of me, I pushed her off with the palm of my hand, and stood. The chamber rumbled as whatever was following her came down the stairs, I readied my claws, then a thought struck me _why am I defending someone?_ My job up to this point had been to kill people nearly indiscriminately, I hadn't really cared if I killed an ally, so why was I defending this woman?

The rumbling got louder until a lumbering man dressed in granite armour appeared, he had a massive granite maul hefted over his head. The moment he saw me, he roared and tried bringing the maul down on me, I managed to dodge, just barely. Using my claws, I sliced through the wooden shaft of the maul, he roared in anger, and began lunging at me with his fists, his attacks followed a predictable pattern. I lunged at him with my claws, expecting there to be a chink in the armour right at the side, my claws scratched against the granite surface of his armour. My claw barely managed to scratch his armour, no chink, at least not in the usual place, my opponent struck me in the back with his elbow, sending me flying into the stairs.

Making a sound that I assumed indicated he was happy in some manner, he began moving toward the girl. Shaking I manage to stand from the stares, at least 3 of my ribs were broken, my head felt like it was going to explode. The man in granite moved slowly, I used this time to wrap my claws around his face/head/neck, he noticed me, and began flailing. I tightened my grip a little, and the blades sank a small bit into the man, he screamed in pain, the world was spinning. The girl on the ground stared at me, terrified, I looked at her with the eyes that had seen so many deaths, her eyes were filled with tears, and she was violently shaking.

"Close your eyes…" I said to her.

In one swift motion I snapped the neck of the man in granite, and he immediately crashed to the ground. The woman stared at me, a mix of fear, and relief filled her face, I kneeled by her, she was Elven, her ears pointed. For a moment I just stared at her, then I felt the world slip into blackness, I remembered hitting the ground, then just nothing.


End file.
